A/N Thanks to Danny Barefoot, Bard's soul and the mysterious entity known
only as alex for reviewing. Being the wonderful *snort* person that I am,
here's another vignette.
Disclaimer; I dopo nopotop owopnop Hopisop Doparopkop Mopatoperopialopsop. Doponop'top sopue.
"One last kiss, rushed and clumsy so that they banged cheekbones, and a tear from her eye was transferred to his face; their two dæmons kissed farewell, and Pantalaimon flowed over the threshold and up into Lyra's arms; and then Will began to close the window, and then it was done, the way was closed, Lyra was gone."
Mistakes
I felt her tear land softly on my cheek, a little ball of water and salt. It was only a tear, and yet it felt like a ball of fire, setting my face aflame first and then travelling it's way down the rest of my body. It was that tear that made me hesitate.
I couldn't do this. I couldn't separate myself eternally from the object occupying the largest portion of my heart, tear away half of my soul and never see it again...
But I had to. I tried to rationalize with myself. Think about the alternative, you must do it, you must. But must doesn't matter, must is a meaningless word, how could us mere humans know what we must do, what must be. It is only what our feeble minds imagine as outcomes that determines must. How do we know that we're always right?
Because we're not always right. We make mistakes, mistakes that change the worlds. We make these mistakes because we believe that what we're doing is the right thing to do in the circumstance. Like we could ever know.
My thoughts drift to this circumstance, my circumstance, /our/ circumstance. So many little chances. Maybe someone somewhere in the country is thinking that it was a mistake to have left the door open, because it meant that their cat escaped. Maybe they wish that they could redo the scene, and fasten the door properly, and not make that mistake.
Except that if they did that, did what they thought was the right thing, avoided that particular mistake, then I never would have seen the cat. I never would have followed it through the window, none of this ever would have happened, I never would have met Lyra.
I never would have had to say good-bye. Good-bye. That simple, two-syllable word ends my hesitation. We don't know what we must do, and we never will. But there's as good a chance as any that what we've planned to do is the right thing, so I've got to stop being selfish, and only thinking of the two of us. I've got to do what we planned to do.
And so I closed the window.
A/N You like, no like? Please tell me! I realized only after I had finished this that I had been greatly influenced by PastWatch the Redemption of Christopher Columbus by Orson Scott Card. Great book by the way. Okay, adios.
Disclaimer; I dopo nopotop owopnop Hopisop Doparopkop Mopatoperopialopsop. Doponop'top sopue.
"One last kiss, rushed and clumsy so that they banged cheekbones, and a tear from her eye was transferred to his face; their two dæmons kissed farewell, and Pantalaimon flowed over the threshold and up into Lyra's arms; and then Will began to close the window, and then it was done, the way was closed, Lyra was gone."
Mistakes
I felt her tear land softly on my cheek, a little ball of water and salt. It was only a tear, and yet it felt like a ball of fire, setting my face aflame first and then travelling it's way down the rest of my body. It was that tear that made me hesitate.
I couldn't do this. I couldn't separate myself eternally from the object occupying the largest portion of my heart, tear away half of my soul and never see it again...
But I had to. I tried to rationalize with myself. Think about the alternative, you must do it, you must. But must doesn't matter, must is a meaningless word, how could us mere humans know what we must do, what must be. It is only what our feeble minds imagine as outcomes that determines must. How do we know that we're always right?
Because we're not always right. We make mistakes, mistakes that change the worlds. We make these mistakes because we believe that what we're doing is the right thing to do in the circumstance. Like we could ever know.
My thoughts drift to this circumstance, my circumstance, /our/ circumstance. So many little chances. Maybe someone somewhere in the country is thinking that it was a mistake to have left the door open, because it meant that their cat escaped. Maybe they wish that they could redo the scene, and fasten the door properly, and not make that mistake.
Except that if they did that, did what they thought was the right thing, avoided that particular mistake, then I never would have seen the cat. I never would have followed it through the window, none of this ever would have happened, I never would have met Lyra.
I never would have had to say good-bye. Good-bye. That simple, two-syllable word ends my hesitation. We don't know what we must do, and we never will. But there's as good a chance as any that what we've planned to do is the right thing, so I've got to stop being selfish, and only thinking of the two of us. I've got to do what we planned to do.
And so I closed the window.
A/N You like, no like? Please tell me! I realized only after I had finished this that I had been greatly influenced by PastWatch the Redemption of Christopher Columbus by Orson Scott Card. Great book by the way. Okay, adios.